


Play Pretend

by cometthespacerock



Series: Shipmas 2018 [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling
Genre: Dracos a good grandfather, Established Relationship, Fluff, Loveable dorks, M/M, Married Scorbus, Scorbus kids, Scorpius is still a dork, Shipmas 2018
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-07
Updated: 2018-12-07
Packaged: 2019-09-13 06:23:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16887285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cometthespacerock/pseuds/cometthespacerock
Summary: Scorpius and Albus must come to terms with the concept that one of their children might have to do things a little differently than the rest.For Shipmas Day 3: Are you sure this is how muggles decorate their Christmas trees without magic?





	Play Pretend

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Littlerose13writes for the prompt!  
> Shipmas 2018 Prompt Day 3: Are you sure this is how muggles decorate their Christmas trees without magic?

The door slams shut to the front of the house as the older male pulls off the coat of the quiet toddler. The little blond stands perfectly still as the brunette removes the wrapped layers of the scarf and the sunshine yellow bobbled knit hat. He blinks, with his wide, bright grey-blue eyes as a taller blond comes into the room.

“Papa!” He cries out to the taller of the two, reaching to hug his father.

“How’d it go?” Scorpius asked, picking up the little blond. He scoops some of his silvery-blond hair from his forehead. Even still, he has the brightest, most care free look on his face. The look on his husbands face, however, is not carefree and joyous. There’s a nervous look on his face, one that brings all of Scorpius’ worries to life. “Not good?” He questions softly.

“Why don’t you put that film on for him?” Albus suggests, which adds to Scorpius’ worry. Clearly, if Albus thought that the healer appointment wasn’t a big concern, then he wouldn’t have wanted to hide things from their youngest son. He worked in the healing industry so he knew a great deal about what was and what wasn’t something to be concerned about.

“Right-O then,” Scorpius replies, bouncing the toddler on his hip. “Why don’t you and Dragon go watch the film Papa puts on,” Scorpius says with a forced smile, placing a cup of pumpkin juice on the table next to the little boy. He then makes sure the boy is well enticed, before going into the kitchen and shutting the door.

“Right-O?” Albus snorts.  “You are _such_ a dork.”

“Your dork,” Scorpius mumbles, reaching to lace hands with his husband. He keeps their hands laced as he talks. “So, tell me, what happened? He didn’t have a tantrum in the office, did he?”

Albus shakes his head. “He was _perfect_. He performed all the tests. He passed them all, with flying colours. His healer said he was an extraordinary young boy. He had no outbursts. He had no tears, _not_ even during the prick. It was the best visit any of our children have had.”

“What’s the problem, then?”

Albus stays quiet, looking around the room. He spots a portrait of his family on the wall, and smiles sadly at it. It was taken just a year ago, back when their youngest was two, their twins were five, and their eldest was seven. The young boy was smiling brightly, with the most sunshine smile one could muster. He was always such a sweet boy. Even at two, he had the biggest heart, and was very kind. Perhaps, he was even kinder than Scorpius was, and Scorpius was the kindest boy he’d ever known.

His heart clenches, because Dylan was the sweetest boy with the easiest of wants. He loved to hear stories of Hogwarts, and loved to watch his older siblings do their accidental magic. He loved playing pretend, and everything fairytale and magic. He loved dragons, his dragon named Dragon, and talked about how he couldn’t wait to go to Hogwarts and learn about the magical creatures.

Albus didn’t make bets on his children. He hated when people guessed his house and then were wrong years later when sortied into Slytherin. He didn’t like putting that tag on his children, making them feel like they had to conform to the house he and Scorpius thought they belonged to. But in the comfort of their room, he and Scorpius sometimes talked about who they thought would be sorted where.

Their eldest, for instance, was most definitely a Slytherin. She had trademark Weasley red hair, but grey Malfoy eyes. She was the looks of a Weasley with the personality of Scorpius’ father. She loved all things proper, and she was Draco’s princess. Everything she wanted was as regal as Albus could imagine. Scorpius would chuckle, because his eldest fits more into the Malfoy elegance than his husband did.

Their twins, for instance, were night and day. Both were little Potter replicas, with dark hair and green eyes, but one had the brains of his Aunt Hermione, while the other was more like Albus than Al would ever admit to. But both were reckless, and while they could see their younger daughter go the lengths of Ravenclaw, Albus and Scorpius both know that she’d never leave her twin behind. They might be night and day to each other, but, Albus and Scorpius both fret the day they have to learn to sleep in separate rooms.

The youngest, he was all Hufflepuff. From his generosity, to his kind gestures and sunshine smiles. He was sure to be a puff, if there was ever was such a puff. Albus could see him wear the yellow and black with pride, and boast all about being kind and being loyal.

A lump forms in Albus’ throat as he avoids looking at his husband. He blinks back all tears and when his eyes gaze up at Scorpius’, he notices that Scorpius’ own eyes are wet with tears.

“Albus, what’s wrong with our son?” He whispers. The crack in his voice is all Albus doesn’t want to hear. He can’t break down, he _can’t_.

“Dylan passed every test. He was exceptional,” Albus repeats. “Only…” Albus blinks, and a tear falls down his cheek. “His magic hasn’t come in.”

Scorpius nods. He knows deep down what this could possibly be, but, he wishes to remain optimistic. “Your Uncle Neville didn’t show signs until much later.”

“Right,” Albus repeats softly.

“Not everyone is like Stella, having a magical tantrum at two.” Scorpius forces out a chuckle. “If so, we’d have way too many powerful witches around.”

“The healer…she…she thinks it’s best if we start to consider other options.”

Scorpius gulps. “Like…?” His voice is the highest pitch Al’s heard in ages.

“Muggle schools, for one.”

Scorpius’ hand shakes in Albus’ grip. He lets go and wipes at his tears. “Our son’s a squib,” he whispers. Scorpius stands there and lets the words sink in. He lets the realities sink in. He’s not going to be going to Hogwarts. Probably. He’s never going to get a wand. He’s never going to do any of those little things they take for granted. Scorpius shuts his eyes.

“I know.” Albus grabs the wrists of his love and kisses his forehead.

Scorpius starts to shake, and Albus can’t blame him. It’s a lot to take in. Frowning, he sees a tiny bit of laughter from Scorpius’ lips. Pulling back, Albus raises a brow.

“The most _Malfoy_ looking child of ours is a squib. Oh, Grandmother Cissa and Grandfather Lucius will be in _fits_. I guess karma really does exist.” Albus watches the small smile escape his husband’s lips, and the smile escapes his too.

Coming to terms with their son’s possibility brought upon new challenges in the Potter-Malfoy household. Muggle ways were played up more than they used to be, and suddenly, Scorpius was seen more often without his wand than before. While both wizards still clung to their wands, the motion to detach more from magic was a conversation brought up more than it was.

Suddenly Scorpius wanted to learn the muggle alternatives for everything. He wanted to know about Albus’ life in muggle school, how he managed both lifestyles. Trips out were done more frequently with the tube than the inherited muggle van.

As Scorpius dropped a small bag of groceries on the counter, he dropped a kiss to each of his children’s heads, watching as the three older children were working on their muggle homework. Two faces beam up at their papa, while the other face stares begrudgingly at the paper in front of him.

“Why don’t you go upstairs and get ready for dinner while I talk to Daddy,” Scorpius suggests to his children, as books are slammed and crammed into backpacks. Three scurry off up the stairs. “Al, I have a _fantastic_ idea.” He’s grinning as he pulls out some of the items from the bag by hand. “What if we try a muggle Christmas, muggle decorations and all?”

Albus looks over from where he is standing. “All muggle?” He questions his husband, amused smile on his lips.

“All muggle,” Scorpius repeats.

“We can try,” Albus says.

He regrets the decision when he’s wrapped up in tinsel and fairy lights. There’s bobbles scattered on the ground and the girls are fighting over whether or not the broomstick ornament deserves to be on the tree.

“It’s _not_ pretty,” Stella declares, hands on her hips as she chastises her little sister. “Papa,” Stella complains, “tell her that only _pretty_ things can go on the tree!”

Scorpius detangles one of the ornaments that the younger girl’s twin is holding. He looks over at Albus and smiles, then goes back to his youngest daughter. “I rather think that broomstick is a pretty ornament. It can go right here, next to Grandma Ginny’s Harpies ornament. Stella,” he says, and directs a look to the red head girl. “Your sister can put anything on the tree from this box, just like you.”

“Uh, Scor,” Albus says, and wriggles his hand. “Help?” He pleads. He was wrapped in both fairy lights and tinsel, a red bow stuck on his head.

Scorpius laughs, going over to rescue his husband. He picks the toddler up who clapped, his older brother looking over and smirking.

“Why don’t we have a cocoa break while I untangle Daddy,” he suggests, going to the kitchen. It only takes a quick wave of his wand while the cups fill themselves up and is dispersed to each child. In another quick wave, Albus is released from the lights and grins at his husband.

“My hero,” he teases. “I think we should do the lights with our wands,” he decides, as he removes the red bow from his hair. Scorpius pouts, and Albus sighs. “Don’t give me that, Scor. It’s _just_ the lights. And you know I can’t do the top portion myself anyways. I can hardly reach it. I’m _only_ five-seven.”

“We agreed—“

“I _know._ But Dyl’s only three, he won’t care. He’ll like the magic _more_.”

“But it’s not fair to him.”

“Just the lights?” Albus grabs Scorpius’ wrists and goes to kiss his pouting lips.

Scorpius squirms from his grip. “Fine. _Just_ the lights.”

Albus grins. “By the way, your dad is coming tomorrow afternoon. Have you told him yet?” Scorpius frowns. His thumbnail makes its way to his mouth. “You know you have to tell him, right?” Albus replies, when his partner stays silent. “Sometime _before_ your dad wants to buy him his first broom.” The worried expression on Scorpius’ face makes Albus go quieter. “We can ease him into the idea. Lunch. The three of us?”

“Right-O,” Scorpius says. “The three of us. Dad, Al, and Scor. Telling Dad that his grandson won’t be going to Hogwarts. Right.”

“Well, Rem still has his magic. So, technically, yes, one of his grandsons is going to Hogwarts. Just not…” Albus grows quiet. He didn’t want to say the words, and Scorpius nodded in understanding. Their eldest son was not the most qualified for a boarding school. At only six years old, he was already struggling academically in his primary school. He relied on his sister far too much, and he had troubles with basic reading. The muggles called it a learning disability, and both Albus and Scorpius didn’t know how that would translate into the wizarding world. On top of his learning disability, he had little interest in education. While his sisters thrived in school, he didn’t have the same enthusiasm.  His magic at home wasn’t as strong as his twin’s was, and he didn’t seem to have any desire to improve. If he and his sister were to be sorted in separate houses, Albus prays that someone would be willing to work with him on his magic.

Their youngest, however, loved all things magic, and going to Hogwarts would be a dream come true.  But now it would most likely be a crushed dream. Albus dreads the day he has to crush it.

At one point in time, Albus would run around, trying to clean and make nice whatever he could when his father in law was coming over. Now, however, Albus does no such thing. He’s far too busy chasing after a rambunctious six year old, who is too busy ripping pages out his workbook for school.

“Rem,” Albus scolds. “Stop ripping your school book. School books are _not_ for destroying.” The little boy looks at his father and smirks, the same smirk Albus has sworn he’s seen on his older brother. “Stop,” Albus calls out again, as another page falls to the floor. Albus reaches and grabs the boy’s wrist, just as he’s about to rip out one more page. With a jerk, Albus hears a little whine of ow, followed by a scowl.

“Stop,” he says, picking up the book and waving his wand to charm the pages back into the book.

There’s a loud chuckle as an older man with a long blond ponytail enters the room. “Having trouble, Albus?” The voice is soft. Albus’ cheeks turn red as he glances up at his father in law.

“Draco, hi,” Albus replies, waving his wand again, cleaning up the remainder of the mess the six year old had left on the floor.

“Where is Scorpius?” He asks, looking around the room. He smiles down at his grandson. Had anyone told him a majority of his future grandchildren would not be sporting traditional Malfoy blond, he’d have called them crazy. But now, he doesn’t mind so much. Even with the long Weasley red from his eldest granddaughter.

“He’s helping Ry with her hair before we drop them off at Mum’s. Merlin’s beard, I can’t wait until she cuts it.”

Draco only smiles. While their eldest daughter took care of her hair, and had an interest in all things fashion, their youngest was the exact opposite. She was a big tomboy, loving to play outside and eager to play quidditch. She hates wearing dresses, and doing anything girly. The only thing she loved as much as being outgoing, was her very long, very Potter, tangly hair.

“Is that Dad?” Scorpius calls from the top of the stairs. “Let me floo them, then I’ll be down!”

“Can I get you tea while you wait?” Albus asks, pushing his elder son up stairs to head off with his siblings.

“No, Albus,” Draco says kindly.  He waits patiently with his son in law for his son to get back.

“Can I get you anything?” Albus asks his father in law. He doesn’t want to be standing there like he’s not doing anything.

“No, Albus,” Draco repeats himself. He stands politely with Albus, not making any conversation. When Scorpius floos back home fifteen minutes later, he rushes through the floo and gives his father the welcomed hug. The affection isn’t the same as if it were Albus’ parents, but Scorpius welcomes his father all the same.

“Hi Dad,” he greets. “Sorry, they were a bit of a handful to get through the floo.”

Draco smiles at his son. “I can see. Do you two need to get ready, or shall we head out? I expect it’s your usual choice Scorpius?” He questions. “After all, the two of you are rather dressed for the occasion.”

“I even convinced Albus to brush his hair,” he teased his husband. “Yes Dad, the nice one. I know you don’t like the place Albus usually chooses.” Albus scowls at the mention. While the Potters have always been more casual diners, the Malfoys were not. Albus preferred one of the simple eateries where one didn’t need to dress up, and could be casual. It was usually one step above the ruckus of the pizza place they would occasionally take their children.

Scorpius loved the fine dining restaurant just a little ways in to town. He loved going there for special reasons, and was far more used to elegance than Albus was. The one time Draco had been invited out to eat at one of Albus’ choices, it didn’t go well. The food didn’t fit the style Draco preferred, and from then on, he declined eating at the place.

“Would one of the places in the Wizarding World be better?” Draco suggests, and Scorpius shakes his head.

“Its fine, Dad. This place will be fine. We’ll take the muggle car.”

Draco winces when he gets inside the large muggle vehicle. He doesn’t understand how a contraption as such could be a qualified mode of transportation. He sits in the back and winces at all the crumbs on the seats. “Albus, haven’t you cleaned this contraption?”

“Not yet, Dad. We didn’t have time. We will soon,” Scorpius promises, pulling the car into a spot. He unlocks the doors and watches carefully as his father gets out. He knows Draco doesn’t need help, but he’s there if he wants it. Neither of their parents want to admit it, but they’re getting older, and occasionally starting to need help they wouldn’t before. While Albus has three others to help with the responsibilities, Scorpius does not.

Albus stands out beside the car, mumbling as he yanks on a stray hair that wasn’t brushed the same direction. He eyes the two, then rushes to the door to hold the door open for Draco and Scorpius.

“Thank you Albus,” Draco replies curtly.

“Three,” Scorpius says as they enter. The hostess nods, escorting the three of them to a table. Scorpius and Albus take seats beside each other as Draco sits across.

“What is it you are trying to tell me?” Draco asks, as he sees his son and his husband linking hands. “As last time you took me here it was to tell me you’ve a fourth on the way.” Draco pauses, eyebrows raised. “Are you two expecting to add a fifth to the family? Because if that’s the reason, I do have to advise you to wait a little longer. Although, I don’t know why you want five children. Is it a Weasley thing?” He questions.

“Dad,” Scorpius interjects. “Albus and I are done with children.” He looks at Albus for support on the question. They hadn’t talked about it, but Albus’ nod seems to confirm his answer. They didn’t plan to have four children. After their first, Scorpius encouraged the idea of siblings. But one became two, and they had twins: a boy and girl. Two little babies with messy Potter hair and Albus’ green eyes. Scorpius couldn’t see anything cuter than little baby Albus’.

Albus had wanted a little baby Scorpius. He wanted someone that looked like Scorpius, and they tried one more time. Luckily, their youngest came out blond, because regardless, they were done. But, out came the sweetest child Albus had ever laid eyes upon, and someone Scorpius was happy was so cheerful. Draco, too, had been in awe over the mini Scorpius.

As the waitress fills their glasses with water, Albus remains his hands linked with Scorpius’. Draco searches the two children’s faces, trying to figure out just why he was brought here. It had to be something big, something they were nervous about. Otherwise, Scorpius would just send an owl. He knows it can’t be anything to do with the Potters. He had seen the pair last week, strolling through Diagon Alley. Surely, if it were to do with any of the Weasleys, he’d hear some sort of notice.

“Please do not tell me that Albus is going back to that lifestyle you two had right after Hogwarts,” Draco says. “Albus that would be immature of you.”

Albus scowls at the jab. “No, we’re not quitting our jobs. And no, we’re not moving either. Oh,” Albus adds. “And no one got a promotion. It’s not about us,” he adds, gesturing between the two of them. “It’s one of the kids, actually.”

Draco’s brows furrow together as he pieces the information together. “Are they okay?”

“No one’s sick,” Scorpius interjects quickly. He could sense the worry his father would go through. “Everyone is well. No one is sick,” he repeats.

“So what’s the...”Draco catches the look between the two and frowns. “Oh. Is Remus Harold going to be okay?” He asks, frowning. “I imagine a large separation from his twin will be a difficult one.” He coughs.

“No,” Albus replies back, solemnly. “Rem’s okay. He’s weak, but he’s okay. His magic is, I mean. It’s weaker than most magical children his age. We suspect maybe his learning disability could factor in with that. He doesn’t get frightened often, but the other night when he had a nightmare, Woo-Woo soared across the hall into Stella’s vanity.”

Draco sips his water glass. “If it’s not Remus, then it very well isn’t Riley or Estella.  Riley has made books fly around the house every visit, and her sister has been having magic tantrums since the age of two. I remember,” he says, smiling fondly at the call that his granddaughter had done her first bit of magic. “And it very well can’t be Dylan,” Draco says and he catches Albus’ look. Scorpius squeezes Albus’ hand as Draco’s frown comes quicker. “No, that can’t be it.”

“I told you he’d take it horribly,” Albus mutters.

“He _won’t_ ,” Scorpius snaps back in a hushed voice.

“He’s just like you, Scorpius. You were doing magic at three and a half. Your mother would try and get you to sleep and she’d tickle you. You’d squeal and suddenly your little toy you slept with would dance around in the air and it would make your mother laugh. No, he’s nearly four yet. You mentioned Albus didn’t show signs until four years old. He’s a right Malfoy, and there’s never been a nonmagical one.”

“I took him to a healer,” Albus whispers. He grips tighter to Scorpius. “She recommended we look into other options for schools.”

“He may still,” Scorpius interjects quickly. “But she said it’s highly unlikely. Al says his grandmother was muggle born. He never met her, but he has some muggle in him.”

Albus blinks hard. “Scorpius,” he mutters, shooting the boy a dirty look.

“But it’s not anyone’s fault,” Scorpius adds again in a quick panic. “These things just happen. And it’s not the end of the world, Dad. Please don’t blame Albus,” he pleads. “You were fine when it was Remmy.”

“Remus,” Draco starts. “Has been struggling in school since day one. You’ve already mentioned the interest in those special classes for the less thriving. When he comes over, he struggles with his reading assignments. He puts letters where they don’t intend to be.”

“Please don’t insult my son,” Albus defends quickly. “Remmy might not be good at school, but he thrives elsewhere.”

“And where is that?” Albus remains quiet and Draco just nods his head.

“I think he likes music,” Albus adds, in hope of defending his six year old.

“Right. So he’ll be like you then.” His eyes narrow and Scorpius quickly jumps in.

“Dad,” he says in a disciplining voice. Draco’s eyes soften, and Scorpius is relieved. His husband and father usually get along, but occasionally there are some disagreements. Draco was not happy about Albus’ post Hogwarts decisions, nor was he very thrilled in some of Albus’ rambunctious behavior. He was more than thrilled when Albus finally settled down and started the life Scorpius had wanted.

The other disagreement was often over their eldest son. Draco wasn’t very savvy in the world of muggle disorders, and Albus often took personally his confusion by it. Scorpius never told his father Albus had a diagnosed disorder from his childhood, and that Albus knew how their son must feel with all the confusion stirring inside him.

“My apologies,” Draco replies, sipping his drink. “You know I love my grandchildren, Albus, and I know you know I think you and Scorpius are doing wonderfully with them. But this is a concept that will take more time for me to grasp. In my days, squibs were to be exiled from families. Even your Weasley side were known to do such a thing. Of course things have changed and we’ve evolved since then, but I still can’t help but feel the shock from this news. His will not discourage my active life with the children, however. I will still be their Gwampy, a name you know I wear with pride. His…issues will not change my mind or my feelings of him. As with you both, I will certainly hope he’s late, and remain optimistic. Thank you both, boys, for this news. I do however, note, this will have to change my gift of a broomstick. However, after Albus wrote me a very long letter regarding a child who had an accident from a broomstick headlined in all capitals with quidditch is evil—which, a bit hypocritical from a Slytherin keeper, if you ask me—I do respect the wishes and will change his gift, especially given the concerns. He seems very into play pretend, if I recall, so I will try and find another gift to correspond with a nonmagic interest. Thank you again,” Draco says, and gives both Albus and Scorpius hugs.

Albus and Scorpius sat on their living room couch on Christmas morning, Draco on the chair across. Albus had a large mug of coffee while Draco and Scorpius, tea, as they watched the children open their gifts before heading over to the Burrow.

“That’s from Gwampy,” Albus says, as he hands the tiny blond the rather large gift. His siblings watched him with his gifts, their own in piles around them.

A big broad smile is on the little boy as he unwraps the gift. “Oh wow, a knight costume!” He squeaks. “An a-a,” he struggles for the word, as he pulls out another costume.

“Muggle police man,” Draco finishes.

“That’s so _cool_ ,” he exclaims, squeaking as he pulls out more muggle costumes and play pretend toys. He runs over to wrap his skinny arms around Draco’s waist. “Oh!” he shouts loudly. “Gwampy,” he pulls at his arm. “I gotted show you!” Tugging the man’s pant leg, Draco stands up with an amused look on his face. The little boy slams a paper ornament into his chest, made of construction paper, glitter, and a handprint. “Now take this, and put it _there_.” He excitedly tries to drag Draco over to their tree.

“Here?” He asks, agreeing to whatever crazy idea his youngest grandson had.

“There! Good!” The little boy beams. “That’s how muggles do it!” He shrieks with a loud giggle.

Draco looks and his grandson, then at Scorpius and Albus. He reaches to grab at the little boy and cuddle him in close.

“Do you think you can show me _more_ how muggles do things?”

He squeaks and hugs Draco tighter.

Perhaps the muggle way won’t be too hard after all.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Cute Scorbus children feature good! Grandfather Draco!  
> Stay tuned for Saturday's prompt! :)
> 
> As always, feel free to follow my [writing tumblr](http://spacerockwriting.tumblr.com)!


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